There was a season in my life when the world I had built collapsed.
For years I had lived inside a Christian world filled with sermons, conferences, worship, prayer, and ministry. My days had been shaped by faith, vision, and expectation. Then, almost overnight, everything changed. Disappointments accumulated. Relationships broke down. Dreams dissolved. The future I had imagined disappeared.
I left the ministry and found work in the construction industry. It felt as though I had landed on a different planet. The language was different. The values seemed different. Instead of worship and prayer, I heard swearing, complaints, and crude jokes. The sounds echoed in my head. I felt like a foreigner among people who spoke a language I barely understood. I carried my confusion with me to work each day and returned home with the same unanswered questions.
Who was I now? What had become of the calling that once gave direction to my life? Had I misunderstood everything? At night the questions became louder. Sleep often stayed far away. Problems multiplied in the darkness. Old wounds reopened. The future felt uncertain, and I could see no clear path forward. I lay awake wrestling with fears and disappointments until, finally, one night, a quiet cry escaped my heart.
“Lord, how is this going to work out?”
The answer came unexpectedly. Not as a sermon. Not as an argument. Not as an explanation. Just a gentle whisper:
“Do not be afraid. We will manage this together—you and I.”
I smiled in the darkness. For the first time in many months, I felt hope. The questions did not disappear. The circumstances did not change. Yet somehow everything felt different. I was no longer carrying the burden alone.
Looking back, I realise that God often came to me during those difficult years in simple ways. Sometimes he felt like a strong hand leading me through fog when I could not find my way. Sometimes he felt like a protective presence standing behind me when fear threatened to overwhelm me. Sometimes he came as a friend when loneliness became almost unbearable.
And sometimes he came through his Word. There were mornings when I opened my Bible feeling exhausted, confused, and empty. I was not looking for theology. I was not searching for answers to difficult questions. I simply needed God. Then something beautiful would happen.
A passage I had read many times before would suddenly come alive. A familiar verse would shine with unexpected warmth. The words on the page became more than words. They became a meeting place. It felt as though God himself had drawn near.
I have often thought about the creation story. God formed Adam from the dust of the earth and then breathed into him the breath of life. That first breath awakened a living soul.
In moments like these, I felt something similar. Whenever God’s voice reached my heart through his Word, it was as though he breathed on me again. His life touched my life. His heart touched my heart.
The only image I can find for it is a kiss. A heavenly kiss.
Not a kiss of romance, but a kiss of love, acceptance, and life. A kiss that healed wounds I could not heal myself. A kiss that awakened hope when hope seemed lost. A kiss that reminded me that I was still known, still loved, and still held by God.
The greatest miracle was not that I gained new understanding. The greatest miracle was that I met him.
Questions that had seemed impossible became less threatening. The tangled threads of life slowly began to loosen. What had appeared closed started to open. Not because I suddenly understood everything, but because love had entered the room.
I discovered that God’s Word is more than information. It is encounter. More than instruction. It is communion. More than truth. It is the voice of the One who loves us.
Even today I come to Scripture with that same longing. I open my Bible the way a thirsty traveller approaches a spring. I come hoping to hear his voice once more. I come longing for the touch of his grace.
For once the soul has tasted the kiss of God, nothing else can fully satisfy it. We simply want more of him.
His words become sweeter than honey. His love becomes better than wine. And deep within, the heart continues to pray: “Lord, I long for the kiss of your Word.”